


Haikyuu!! Seven Minutes in Heaven

by ActuallyAndroid, BlueSimba, hokshi, lunarenia, momothespicy (momothesweet), momothesweet, OwlEspresso, SabbyWrites, TabsBrowser



Series: Haikyuu!! Seven Minutes in Heaven [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hell yeah babby we doin it quizilla style, Seven Minutes In Heaven, i aint got time for it, tags to be added by respective authors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-07-07 00:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyAndroid/pseuds/ActuallyAndroid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSimba/pseuds/BlueSimba, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hokshi/pseuds/hokshi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarenia/pseuds/lunarenia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/pseuds/momothespicy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/pseuds/momothesweet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso/pseuds/OwlEspresso, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyWrites/pseuds/SabbyWrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabsBrowser/pseuds/TabsBrowser
Summary: An invitation to a post-nationals party gives you a little more than you bargained for.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! Sabbywrites here, ya fave hiatus-loving author. 
> 
> As you can probably tell by the way this series is being posted, this a collaboration between myself and some other AMAZING authors! We were all talking one night about the Good Ole Days of fanfiction-- when sites like Quizilla were home of some of the best and worst reader-inserts around-- when we came across the topic of those Seven-Minutes-In-Heaven quizzes. If you've been around a while like we have, you know exactly which ones I'm talking about. 
> 
> For this collaboration, we decided to bring those back. We have one intro (that's this piece!) and each author will be posting their own installment(s) to the series for different characters. Ratings and tags will vary, so I've decided to allow each creator to add them at their own discretion. 
> 
> We hope you guys enjoy each chapter as we get around to posting them, and that you like the idea of a throwback as much as we do! 
> 
> xx sabby

You can say, with almost absolute certainty, that you hadn’t expected to be in this situation at the start of the night. 

Sure, the volleyball boys were known for their antics— who could forget Kuroo and Bokuto nearly dying at last year’s after-nationals banger?— but this was something else entirely to you. 

“Seriously?” You snort, casually brushing a piece of stray silly string from your shoulder as you peer into Konoha’s eyes. He shrugs, jostling the drawstring bag in his grasp. 

“Don’t look at me. Wasn’t my idea.” He drawls, shaking the bag again for emphasis. Inside is an assortment of paint chips “generously” provided by Bokuto. You’re not quite sure that you believe the bullshit excuse of “my parents were repainting!” that he had provided whenever Lev had first announced what game they wanted to play. It appears, though, that college has refused to mature any of the former third years; Kuroo had immediately consented, slapping his hands against his thighs with a chant that only the truly tipsy can muster; Daisho had grumbled an agreement, his cheeks immediately flushing pink in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with alcohol, and even Sakusa had accepted the prompting with a simple shrug of his right shoulder. Your opinions on the matter had not been taken into account, and before you knew it you had been huddled into the living room with the strict orders of spending the next seven minutes with the person you chose. 

“Hurry up.” Konoha tuts, casting his gaze over to the left side of the room where Ushijima and Oikawa are exchanging relatively light-hearted jabs at one another. You suppose Konoha’s eyes only narrow because Oikawa has, in fact, secured the last can of good beer in the house. 

“And no peeking!” Bokuto cuts in, leaning against an armchair for support. He’s not fully drunk— nobody is— but the combination of watching his underclassmen compete at nationals and the shitty whiskey Hanamaki and Mattsun had provided has proven to make him a tad louder than he usually is. “You get who you get!”

 

“Of course.” You sigh, dipping your hand into the bag. It smells faintly like someone’s gym shoes. You grab the first paint chip that you feel, pulling the cardstock from the bag face-down. Before you can even read off the name of the color, Konoha’s snatched it from your hand. 

“Great. In you go.” 

“Wait, don’t I get to see—”

“That ruins the fun!” Hinata, who’d nearly been crying from excitement since Lev announced the game, claps. You sigh again as Konoha tugs on your arm, leading you to the closet against the far wall. 

“Hey, there’s still coats in h—” You begin when he opens the door, but all it takes is a sharp prod to your back to efficiently shove you into the closet. You turn around, incredulous, but Konoha is already shutting the door, announcing your color and asking who has the corresponding chip. You roll your eyes, muttering a displeased insult to yourself before the shadows in the crack under the door change. 

Your partner is standing outside.


	2. Canary Yellow - Terushima Yuuji

7 minutes in heaven is the dumbest idea you have ever heard. You tell the cast of expectant boys that as soon as they bring it up, and continue to tell them that as they start to play. Unfortunately, they refuse to listen. Several pairs have already gone into the closet and stumbled out, with varying results. It sucks, because you’ll probably wind up awkwardly standing next to whatever poor soul you get paired up with for seven minutes. In a dark closet. While the rest of the party giggles amongst themselves and gossips. Drugs plus alcohols plus rowdy teenagers is a very, very bad equation and you’ve taken it upon yourself to prevent the wilder ones from overdosing. 

Everyone drew paint chips at the start of the game, but since everyone can’t cram into the closet at once, you haven’t even bothered to ask who has your color.

Finally, enough people have gone and it’s your turn. 

“Ooooh! Miss Uptight’s turn!” Tendou Satori cheers and you smack him on the arm. You just met at the gym but any respect or boundaries have been forgone in favor of making sure he stays in his own fucking lane. He giggles and snorts as he leans backwards, making you roll your eyes as you dig in your pocket. Bokuto and Kuroo give loud, exaggerated “ooooh’s” as your color, Canary Yellow is revealed. You’re about to ask who the unlucky soul is, but Terushima bounces up from his seated position and answers your question for you. There’s a wide, genuine smile on his face.

Bobata hoots and hollers while you’re pretty sure Daichi is rolling his eyes in the corner. 

“Huuuuuh.” You sigh, already looking dejected. Terushima frowns and strides forward as you slowly and reluctantly get to your feet.

“What’s that ‘huuuuh’ for!? You should be super happy that you’re with me and not some creepy stranger!” The blond insists and grabs your hand, dragging you towards the closet. Catcalls echo after you, and you resist the urge to run back and kick every damn fool sitting in that circle. You could nail them right in the chins. They’d never expect it. Instead, you follow him into the closet, resisting the urge to turn around and remind the group to not overdose while you’re gone.

If seven minutes is enough to shag then seven minutes is also enough to die of alcohol poisoning. You hope that no one will be dead by the time you come back out. But you don’t get to think about that before Terushima is closing the door and caging you in. Darkness obscures your vision and you’re left with the feeling of his body heat and masculine scent. The closet is cramped and you have half a mind to march right back out, but as pushy as he can be, Terushima isn’t the kind of guy to touch you intimately without permission. There’s a long, awkward silence that you don’t intend to break.

“We gotta smooch.” He says, leering at you. It’s hard to see in the darkness of the closet, but his eyes gleam at you in the dark, his bleached hair more visible than the rest of him. He grumbles and frowns. He’s pressed close to your body in the small closet, the both of you caged together and somewhat covered by a leather coat that you think is Bokuto’s. You wrinkle your nose when he presses closer. 

“Terushima, we’re not smooching.” You assert yourself, crossing your arms before he can shove any closer to you. Your back is up against the wall, so you have nowhere to go. You ignore the red rising in your cheeks and the heat barely beginning to pool in your thighs at just the sensation of having him so close. Terushima has been a friend of yours since second year. Most of the time, you play the straight man to his ridiculous antics. But he has moments where he’s genuinely sweet and gentle with you. He’s wiped your tears when you were panicking about finals, held your hand while he walked you home. He’s stupidly considerate and you hate the idea that you might be falling for him. 

Because getting shoved into a closet with a guy you like is so cliche.

“...” He pauses, seemingly unsure of what to do next. “...Please.” You don’t want him to kiss you because he feels like he has to, because that’s a thing that teenagers do when they’re crammed in closets together. You want him to kiss you because he’s genuinely attached to you. Not because of any silly party game or some stupid dare.

“No.” You refuse and he groans, slumping against your body. His chin rests against your shoulder, face pressed against the wall. It can’t be comfortable, but he doesn’t go against your wishes. You pat at his shoulder but he keeps moping.

“Why not?” He questions against your shoulder, chest pressed up against your own. This kind of stuff only happens in shitty, teen romance novels and movies. And you were never particularly interested in any of those. Maybe you should have. Maybe those shitty teen novels were a guide for what to do in this kind of situation. Then again, maybe you’re overthinking it. He probably likes you and you like him, and you’re probably just two teenagers who are worried about something dumb. 

“Because,” You pause, suddenly unsure of yourself. It comes out in your voice and you don’t like how vulnerable it makes you feel. “We shouldn’t kiss unless we actually like each other. That’s not my kind of thing. I don’t want to do anything because of some stupid game.” 

He quiets beside you and seems to be thinking to himself. Terushima is unpredictable. He’s silly and he’s flirty and he’s inconsiderate, sometimes. But he’s also in the highest honors class offered at school, and he honestly comes up with some good strategies on the court. There are times when he’s brilliant and times when he’s trying to craft a makeshift baking soda volcano in the middle of his aunt’s pure white kitchen. So, you really don’t know what he’s thinking or why.

“Okay,” He murmurs, after a long silence. “I like you.” You feel your face light on fire. 

“You jerk!” You tap his shoulder and he makes an exaggerated noise of pain. “Don’t just say that because you wanna kiss!”

“I’m not!” He bristles, “I really do like you! It just… seems to be the right time to say that! We don’t even have to kiss! But I like you and I just got tired of hiding it, okay?” He picks the worst moments to do stuff like this. Your eyebrows furrow into a scowl. “C’mon! We can just hold hands if you want?” He genuinely sounds desperate and you relent, letting a smile flourish on your face. You nudge your head into his shoulder and give a small laugh.

“It’s okay,” You say softly. You reach around his body and hug him, feeling him stiffen. For someone who constantly flirts with girls, he seems awfully nervous right now, “I like you, too,” Your confession seems to flip a switch in him, because his arms wrap around you tight, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You give a small squeal as his lips gently roll across your smooth skin, feeling your legs tremble. “Yuuji! No! Not here!”

“Aww, c’moooon,” He whines, but obliges. He shuffles backwards, but before he can go too far, you reach out and grab his hand, relishing in how much bigger it is than yours. He startles, shocked by your boldness. “Oohoho? I didn’t think you were the type of girl to take the initiative—not that I mind.”

“Don’t act all smug over it.” You tell him, nudging him roughly with your shoulder. He makes an exaggerated, staggering movement and choking noise, pretending to topple over. Before you can tell him to knock it off, he actually does fall over like the massive goof he is. He doesn’t let go of your hand, and you see your life flash before your eyes as you tumble with him, landing awkwardly in his lap. The two of you thump to the ground and he gives a groan of pain, before Bokuto’s coat slides from the hanger and crumples on top of his head.

“Are you okay—”

You don’t get too much time to fret over him, because the closet doors get yanked open. Blinding light floods into the small space, causing you to squint. Terushima grumbles in your ear.

“Are you alright?” Daichi looks down at you, expression concerned. Tendou peeks his head in and waggles his eyebrows at you, alerting you to your position. You’re seated in Terushima’s lap, one of his hands resting on your thigh.

“Oyaoya? I think they look just fine~!” The redhead teases.

“I’m fine!” You hurry to climb to your feet before Daichi can even offer his hand, stumbling partially out of the closet. Terushima, snapped back into reality, jumps up and is hot on your heels. Your face blooms bright red when you’re greeted by catcalls and whistles, but Terushima’s warm hand grabs yours and a strange feeling of peace settles over you. He pushes ahead and sits down in one of the random chairs scattered around the room and pats his thigh, giving you a hopeful grin. By now, the rest of the crowd has turned their attention towards the next unlucky couple. 

You bite your lip, but settle on his lap anyways, resting your head against his shoulder.

“We’re dating, right?” He asks, voice low. It’s the most tentative you’ve ever heard him. Rarely does someone as confident and boisterous as Terushima second-guess himself. But that just makes the moment sweeter. 

“Mhm. We are.” You murmur, shutting your eyes. One of his hands reaches up and gently takes your own, twining your fingers together.


	3. Respectful Red - Ushijima Wakatoshi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima's one intimidating volleyball player. He comes off a little differently than you expect when he steps into the closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyoooo i'm here and i still love haikyuu and i love the people in this collab
> 
> i wrote this to de-stress from my first few weeks of school and it turned out to be something i like. enjoy ~
> 
> please note: this may be more rated m if anything for the inapropro touching
> 
> reader is also gender neutral

Part of you regrets coming to this party, but that defeats the whole purpose of coming to college and expanding your horizons or whatever the fuck the principal said during your high school graduation. So far, you’ve witnessed everything you were supposed to witness at an outing like this: boys that are already too drunk too early in the evening, brownies that have been separated by amounts of weed baked into them, a girl coming out of the bathroom and complimenting your clothes. You may only be wearing jeans and a nondescript shirt bearing your college name, and yet you felt so good when she looked you up and down. Maybe you should find her after getting out of this closet.

You roll the paint chip in your hand, shoving it in your pocket once you see the little crack of light that comes with the door opening. Thanks to a few shitty beers, you’re way less nervous about this experience than you were when you were ranting to your roommate about how all of this could go wrong. This isn’t the most ideal way to put yourself out there, though anything involving underage drinking and organized pot brownies seems far from ideal.

Speaking of which, the tallest motherfucker you’ve ever met steps inside, completely blocking whatever is behind him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t block out the cheers and the sing-songy “Use protection~” coming from Oikawa. Your stomach turns uncomfortably. From what you can remember being out in the living room and what you can make out now in the darkness of the closet, you can conclude that Ushijima Wakatoshi is a very good-looking person.

He’s also more polite than you make him out to be. Or, that could be the alcohol telling you otherwise. Once the door closes and all you can feel is a giant body barely fitting in the closet, he puts a large hand on your cheek and leans into you, lips so close against yours.

“I saw you out in the living room. You’re very pretty.”

You’re glad he can’t see the look on your face right now. Time is ticking and based on that starter, you have no idea what you’re going to accomplish with him in the now less-than-seven minutes you two have together. You slide your hands up his shirt and hook your fingers around his neck. “You’re not so bad-looking yourself. But…”

He grunts. “But?”

The words get jumbled in your head. From outside, Ushijima screams dominance and power, especially from what you’ve seen Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team do back in high school. You’re not sure why he’s being so modest now, not when this is the most opportune time to ravish you until you can’t remember your name. Is that even possible in seven minutes?

To try and wake up something in him, you close the distance and seal the kiss, gently biting his lower lip when you pull away to speak, “I thought you’d be more aggressive.”

Ushijima seems to contemplate this, humming softly and filling in the silence with more kissing. Despite the lack of intensity, Ushijima’s a damn good kisser. You press up against his body until he backs into the coats, pushing them against the wall behind him. 

It doesn’t take long for Ushijima to make his move. When you bite his lip again, he growls and pushes you back to the opposite wall of the closet. Some more coats are jostled about and you think he may have knocked over some shoeboxes sitting on the shelf above the two of you. Whatever the case, you’ve awakened him. He moves his hands to tuck them under your shirt so his fingers brush up against your skin.

The fire in you is doused with gasoline with each passing second. You can’t bank on anything else happening beyond second base with the time you have left with him. Instead of wallowing in that loss, you savor the moment, sliding your tongue against his when you open your mouths and moaning when he squeezes your hips. He mumbles what sounds like a question, something possibly dealing with his fingers coming around so close to your chest, and you nod. 

You have to pull away from his lips. As you find some purchase by grabbing his hair, you moan louder when he finds your nipples and tugs them until they’re hard and you’re hot all over. Ushijima answers your noises with his mouth capturing yours, making sure he feels you up under your shirt thoroughly before retreating his hands.

“Fuck, please,” you murmur.

“Please  _ what _ ?”

You moan again, trying to spread your legs and grabbing his hand to bring it down between your legs so he can feel what he’s doing to you. “I want you.”

Ushijima doesn’t wait to start pressing his hand against you and kissing your neck. You need more of it, so much more of it. He bites your neck and you pull his hair in return, and when you finally have the brain power to do it, you moan, “Wa--ka--to--sh--”

The fantasy crumbles when the door flies open and Oikawa shouts Ushijima’s nickname. “Ushiwaka!”

Ushijima immediately gets his hands off you, wiping his mouth and staring down Oikawa like he’s about to eat him alive. Oikawa simply laughs, slapping Ushijima’s shoulder while you take the time to rearrange yourself as if you weren’t about to come from some heavy petting. “Don’t give me that look! I told you it was fun.”

Reality sets back in. The too-strong drinks, the bad music, the bastards cheering and whooping and looking at you funny. Once you find your breath and your bearings, you shy away from the closet and ready yourself to go home. Ushijima doesn’t come off as the type to pursue, and it looks clear that he’s prioritizing Oikawa’s nonstop questions over your comfort. Thankfully, you run into neither Bokuto nor Kuroo, the former of whom is already calling out the next paint chip color. You suppose that’ll be a good souvenir to chuck in your desk drawer and forget about until you graduate.

Just when you reach the front door, ready to escape, someone grabs your hand and yanks you away. You immediately yank back defensively. “Hey!”

Upon turning around to see who you’re going to punch, you let your guard down slightly when you find that it’s Ushijima himself. His hair is unkempt thanks to you and he looks less predatory, probably because you’re not Oikawa and you didn’t blatantly, loudly ask how it felt being in a closet with you for seven minutes.

“I think we had our fun,” you say, unable to really look him in the eye now that you can see him in all his towering, handsome glory. “Um. Thanks.”

Ushijima steps forward, taking your hand much more gently. You decide not to let go when he kisses your cheek and tells you, “I’ll walk you home.”

It’s a genuine-enough offer you don’t want to deny. Nodding, you head out the door with him, leaving the chatter and the nonsense behind. You’re not in the same mood outside with Ushijima as you were with him in the closet. Hopefully, by the time he gets you home safely, you can at least kiss him goodnight and grab his number.

You’re willing to expand your horizons, but once you sober up, you’re willing to do it your way, at your pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, feedback and 7-minute kissing are greatly appreciated. <3


	4. Poppy Orange - Hinata Shouyo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hinata is nervous, but what else is new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *victoria justice voice* oh i think we're _all_ excited for season 4. so as we wait, here's some sunny fluff for us all. 
> 
> rating: G  
> word count: 2k  
> gender neutral

Hinata can feel every single one of his glands releasing a new wave of sweat as the door closes behind him, leaving the both of you trapped inside for the designated seven minutes to do… 

 

He doesn’t even know!!! 

 

How do these things even work?? Should he just walk up to you and say “here I go” before planting one on you?? Oh god, and you’re pretty cute too. He’s never been good at approaching cute girls. He can still barely speak normally with his old club manager! 

 

Karasuno’s volleyball club was invited to this party being held by Fukurodani’s old ace and captain, and the man who took Hinata as a disciple, the ever respectable and living legend Bokuto-san. And he invited a ton of other people here from other schools and volleyball teams. Some are even athletes who don’t play volleyball. 

 

This is his first college party, maybe his first big party ever(!) And there’s a lot of stuff going on. A lot of…  _ adult  _ things, too. People are dancing, there are some couples kissing against the walls, and drinking things from fancy bottles and cans that aren’t soda. 

 

There’s also a lot of food scattered around the house and different games and conversations going on. He loves the bright atmosphere of it all, and he’s interacted with a lot of cool people so far. They all had something interesting to share about their experiences with volleyball and other things. And he got to see a lot of other familiar faces too. 

 

At some point, however, he got roped into a game in which he was given a paint chip labeled ‘poppy orange.’ It looks like some variation of pink, but apparently there was someone else who had picked a matching one, and he and you were pushed into a coat closet before he was properly explained the rules of this game. 

 

Although the fact that he overheard that you’re a first-year puts him a little more at ease, even if only as much as a teaspoon of nervous weight has been lifted. Someone from Fukurodani had shouted, “Aww, the babies are gonna have a playdate!”

 

And then the door was closed behind the both of you. 

 

It’s dark in here, so he can barely see you. Looks like you’re familiar with this closet, because you flick on a light switch he hadn’t noticed earlier to bathe the both of you in a muted yellowish glow. 

 

Okay, you’re close. 

 

Like, really close. Like as close as his face is to a volleyball net when he’s about to jump for a block. And reflexively, his feet just spring him back until he’s practically cowering against the coats on the wall behind him, sputtering, “I-I-I- S-Sorry! I was-wasn’t I uhm-- uh--!!” 

 

You rest your hands on your shoulders and he shuts up immediately, about to choke on air. But then your lips are on and off of his in a matter of a second. And he just stares blankly as he watches you pull away, bringing your hands back to your sides. 

 

“Wh-Wh-What was that??” he manages to tremble out.

 

“It’s the rules!” you say matter-of-factly, your eyes absent of any particular emotion that would suggest that you feel any affection towards him. 

 

“R-Rules?” he manages to ask, letting his body unclench. He hadn’t even realized he had tensed up so quickly. 

 

“Yeah, you have to kiss when you play this game. That’s just how it is.” you explain as if you were talking about chess or something. “Although I don’t really know why you need seven whole minutes…”

 

“M-Maybe some people need more time to mentally prepare.” Hinata offers, because that definitely applies to him. 

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” you shrug, and Hinata just remembers how close you are when that small movement makes your arm rub against his chest. 

 

“Have you played this game before?” Hinata finds himself asking, gulping. 

 

“Yeah. Just once. My parents wouldn’t let my brother come to these parties unless he brought me too. He’s friends with the guys who throw them.” 

 

“Ohh. So you’ve been to parties like this before? This is my first time, so I don’t know how any of these games work.” Hinata finds talking makes the situation a little easier to handle. And you aren’t doing anything to make him particularly nervous now that the kiss was over. 

 

Wait.

 

The kiss was over. 

 

Which means… you kissed him! 

 

Hinata just got his first kiss!! And it happened in such a flash. Even spiking one of his and Kageyama’s special quick attacks doesn’t feel as fast as that kiss did. 

 

Oh gosh, thinking about it is making his ears start to burn again.

 

“Yeah, this is my third one. So the Fukurodani volleyball club players know me now. I don’t always play the games with everyone, though. And I usually eat before coming to these things, because they put weird stuff in their food and drinks at these parties.” you wrinkle your nose, and Hinata’s eyes kind of shine at how cute it is. 

 

“Ohh, no wonder some of the other guys are acting weird.” Hinata trails off, “Wait! I ate some of that stuff too! Is something going to happen to me??” 

 

“No, no, nothing bad.” you reassure him with a smile, “And if you do feel weird, usually it wears off by the next day or two. Or so I’m told.” 

 

“I see… So are these parties usually fun then?” 

 

“Mm…” you purse your lips in thought, “Sometimes. I get to meet a lot of different people, but most of the time, they just talk about sports! Because most of the volleyball club invites other athletes. From our school and others.” 

 

“So you don’t like sports?” 

 

“I don’t hate them, but I’m not really interested in them…” you shrug again, “Are you an athlete too, Hinata-kun?” 

 

“I’m in the volleyball club at Karasuno!” Hinata finds himself smiling widely, and even leaning forward a bit in this tight space. “We made it to nationals before, actually!” 

 

“Eh? Really?” you share his wide-eyed look, although your expression is one of surprise. “That’s amazing. I heard our boys volleyball team was actually pretty strong. So that means you beat them?” 

 

“Well, yeah. I mean we had to.” Hinata brings his hand to rub at the back of his head, wondering why he’s feeling sheepish. “They were pretty fun to play against though. It’s true that they’re pretty amazing.”

 

“Still. You’re the ones who made it to nationals. Isn’t that kind of incredible?” 

 

Hinata laughs nervously as he looks away, trying to hide how pleased he is at the praise. His laugh is cut short though, when you add in, “So are you like, a regular at all? You’re a bit shorter than most athletes that I know.” 

 

Whipping his head back to face you, “I’m short, but I can jump pretty high!! I scored a lot of points for our team, actually!!” 

 

His protests almost sound desperate because he knows it’s hard to believe; he’s been through this many times before. You just nod slowly in thought, curiously taking him in, “That’s pretty cool. And you’re only a second year now?” 

 

“Uh huh.” 

 

“Wow. That’s not very common at all. Then you must be really amazing after all!” you give him a smile, and his heart kind of falters at the sight of it. 

 

“I’m not that amazing~” he waves you off with another sheepish, delighted laugh. “Not by myself, anyway. I have a lot of great team members with me, so we’re never afraid to give it our all. It gets me real excited whenever a tough opponent comes along and we get to test our strengths together to beat them!” he feels the familiar inspiration flooding through his veins at the thought of his awesome teammates and his hand is suddenly craving the smack of a volleyball against his palm. 

 

Your thoughtful hum is what brings him back to the setting, and Hinata notices that you’re staring at him with a calm, inquisitive look on your face. He’s about to apologize, even though he doesn’t know what he’d apologize for, but your lips eventually spread into a smile, “I kind of wanna watch next time, then.” 

 

“Y-Yeah! Sure!” he says immediately, and almost a little too loudly. You jolt a little at the volume. But your interested, supportive smile doesn’t relent, so he calms himself after a taking a breath again. “I’ll be sure to show you something awesome!” 

 

The moment that follows is sweet and lingering, one that doesn’t really need words to fill it. Honestly, Hinata wouldn’t have minded just standing there, almost chest to chest with you for a while longer, but a knock sounds at the door, signaling your seven minutes have concluded. 

 

“Alrighty, kiddos. I hope you’ve had fun. Time to come outside.” one of the Johzenji guys hosting the game opens the door. Hinata recognizes him from that first game they played together last spring. 

 

“Okay~” you drone, making to step towards the door, “Let’s go, Hinata-kun.”

 

“R-Right!” he follows, suddenly nervous again, avoiding eye contact with the tall Johzenji guy who gives him a suggestive smirk as he passes the door. 

 

Once he’s back in the properly lit and ventilated den of the house, Hinata whips his head back and forth in an awkward frenzy as he wonders where he should go next. Like a bell, your voice calls for his attention to follow you, “This way, Hinata-kun. Let’s get drinks.” 

 

“O-Okay!” he continues to stutter. 

 

You explain to him how the stuff that isn’t spiked is usually in the fridge, but you just fill a red plastic cup with some cold water from the dispenser on the freezer door. “You’re free to drink anything you like though, I won’t judge you. But it tastes like crap.” 

 

“Oh yeah, Cropped-hair-san offered me a small glass of what looked like iced tea earlier. When I sipped it, I almost spit it out! It really burned my throat.” the middle blocker recounts the unpleasant experience. “It’s a good thing Tsukishima drank it for me. I would’ve felt bad about wasting it.” 

 

“Who’s Tsukishima?” 

 

“Ah! He’s the other middle blocker on my team. He’s really tall, wear glasses, blonde. Real mean to me though.” 

 

“Oh, you mean that guy passed out over there?” you nod to the lanky blonde who is indeed lying unconscious on the couch in the den outside of the kitchen, “I think I saw him take like three shots in a row earlier. I wonder if he’s alright.” 

 

“Oh, yeah it is!” Hinata turns to confirm before his eyes blow wide, “Wait! Is he dead?? Should we call someone?!”

 

“He’ll be fine, he’s got friends watching over him.” you say it so casually that Hinata is compelled enough to believe you, “He must’ve had a good time.”

 

That’s a rarity, for Tsukishima to become so engaged in an activity that he ends up passing out. But it’s good to think he’s having a good time.

 

Much like Hinata is right now. You’ve led him to another part of the house to chat for a bit and before he knows it, the evening approaches the last hours left. He’s had a lovely time, made a new friend, and kissed you in a closet. 

 

And… he kissed you in a closet. HE— 

 

“Hey you ready to go?” When your brother appears to announce that it’s time to head home, Hinata’s imagination starts sprinting again and he’s suddenly self conscious about meeting your family and whether they’ll approve of him or maybe think you’re better off or—

 

“Oh. Already?” You ask, checking the time on the wall clock. 

 

“What do you ‘already’?” Your brother chortles, “Usually you’re pretty eager to get out of here. Guess your new friend here is quite the charmer.”

 

Ch-charmer??? Him??? 

 

This is a whole ‘nother level of flattery that Hinata was not at all prepared for, and without a clue as to how to respond, he ends up babbling a whole bunch of nonsense about being in your care and even bowing to your brother. 

 

He stays bent in that perfect 90 degree pose even after your brother responds with a confused goodbye and leads you towards the front. He only looks up again when you call back, “See you around, Hinata.” 

 

In the last seconds before you turn into the hallway and out of sight, he manages a quick and promising, “Yeah!! See you!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave hype and ignore my incorrect usage of memes


	5. Paradise Pink - Tendo Satori

So, as it turns out, blabbering away in a dark closet—why’re his eyes so nice? Why’s he cute? Why’s he listening and actually invested?—is _not_ an Olympic sport.

You gesture. “That’s when the elevator doors wouldn’t open, and we all started freaking out, like, really, really badly. Everyone was talking about calling the school or the cops, but me and this one guy were trying to pop open the top. You know how they do it in movies? Like that.” Your laugh takes up the closet. Were you making this weird? You’re making this weird. If you moved a little to your right, the jackets and shirts hanging up could swallow you whole. But also, they’re from a brand that shits on their employees, so do you _really_ want to out like that?

He (Tendo, yes, you remind yourself; that’s his name, a nice one) snickers. “You’re cute.” A drawl tangles with his voice, and it thrums against your heart. His eyes are kind of daydreamy, as though he was riding the rises and falls of your voice.

“Oh. . .well, I’m flattered? Honestly this is one of my first times coming to one of these. . .”

“Parties,” he supplies.

You play with the paradise pink slip of paper you pulled out earlier.

Update: he’s still cute. Should you make a move? He said you were cute, so what's there to lose? What if he’s not looking for anything right now? Maybe he’s already planning something and you two would just bump your heads together.

“Yeah, parties. Food here’s pretty decent, though. I haven’t stocked my fridge in, uh, a while. I may have had to put mayo on spaghetti.”

Instead of laughing or walking straight out of the closet, he asks, “Was it good?”

Blink. Well, that’s a first. You’ve lost friends to the mayo story, a ritual you’ve come to call the mayo _haze_. He’s too powerful.

“You know, it could’ve been better, but it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever had.”

“Bet I can top it.”

“Like, you’ve eaten stuff worse than it or. . .?”

“Nah, I got week-old papaya and sour cream and other stuff in my fridge. Wanna make something disgusting?”

“Oh, hell yeah, dude. Now you’re talking.”

When you stand up, you grab each other’s hand at the same time.


	6. Color Me Surprised - Bokuto Koutarou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have some doubts when Bokuto enters the closet.
> 
> Tags: jock Bokuto, nerd reader, fluff, too many mentions of Marvel superheroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello.......it me........
> 
> I missed Bokuto. So here's Bokuto :)

Let’s face it: Bokuto is a jock. You’re a giant nerd. It only happens in movies when two people like the two of you wind up together and live happily ever after.

So when you hear the sound of his voice right outside the closet door, you’re ready for disappointment. Sure, he’s gorgeous and fun and throws great parties, but him? With you? You’re only here because you forced yourself to “go out there and be social for once.” That’s really an achievement in your book. You can go back to staying in and binging Netflix original series after this party and never show yourself to any of these people ever again.

At least you can actually kiss a boy for the first time in, like….ever.  _ If _ he decides to kiss you and you’re worth his time. Your expectations are on the floor at this point.

You flinch when the door opens and he practically shouts your name inside the small space. Instinctively, you curl in on yourself. Anyone this energetic increases your stress levels. Bokuto isn’t necessarily a  _ bad _ person, just different. Way different than you. You can at least hold some semblance of a conversation before anything might happen. In response to his grin, you wave meekly. How does he know your name?

“Didn’t we have calculus together?” he asks upon closing the door.

You raise an eyebrow as you jog your memory. Indeed he was. You can’t forget a hulking figure sitting behind you scribbling notes to no end. And, surprisingly, he did well enough to whoop and holler his triumphs after almost every quiz and exam. “Yeah. Whenever the professor asked any of us to do problems on the board you actually got them right. For the most part.”

“Your handwriting was the neatest! And you explained stuff better than the professor!”

You shrug. “It came naturally, I guess.”

“I think I know someone who can ‘come naturally,’” he muses. 

Even in darkness, you can see him smirk and wink while your stomach does an uncomfortable flip and your cheeks heat against your will. Half your brain screams at you to reach for the doorknob and storm right out. The other half screams at you to stay and let this take its course. 

Bokuto can sense your discomfort. It’s another surprise that catches you off-guard. Stepping back, he says, “Umm. I mean, we don’t have to do anything in here if you don’t want to. It’s just a stupid game.”

“No, I--” you start, then stop. Words are your forte by day and of course they escape you by night when you’re in a closet with arguably the hottest volleyball player on the team. You have his attention and you don’t want to leave him hanging, “I want to.”

“You want to?” he repeats, perking up again. “Are you sure?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Er, well, I just--this isn’t--”

After some more flustering on your end, he gets it. “Oh. Oh!” He takes your hands and pulls you in closer to him. “Don’t worry, it’s my first time doing this, too!”

He sort of gets it. You don’t have to share anything more, maybe. Perhaps you can get by with your complete lack of kissing experience. Except that one time with one of your dolls when you were a kid. That was a strange time.

“You’re shaking,” Bokuto observes. “It’s okay. Are you really that nervous?”

Of course you’re nervous as all hell. Bokuto’s the co-creator of this massive party, a ringleader in all things volleyball, a presumed follower of the bro code. And then there’s you, reader of all books, good grade grabber, the queen bee of introverts. You two are polar opposites. Minus the calculus class.

Apparently, you don’t stop trembling. You hear a soft “hey,” then feel the gentlest of kisses on your cheek. “Relax. Pretend I’m like one of those cool superheroes in those American movies.”

Somehow, you’re able to follow his prompt. You don’t really have to imagine some Marvel character to replace Bokuto. He’s already proven that maybe...he’s a little more than meets the eye. Your heart beats faster when your lips get closer to his. Thankfully, Bokuto meets you halfway.

You had a feeling he was going to be rougher with his contact. Not so; just by reading your actions and words (or lack thereof), he’s adjusted to your needs, and you definitely needed a very slow, very sweet start to this whole kissing business. It takes a few seconds to get a feel for his lips. After that, you’re the one leaning towards him and letting go of his hands to wrap yourself around him. Your entire body warms at his touch. You know he wants to roam, wants to explore exactly who you are with smooth sweeps of his palms, but he keeps them firm on your hips, locked there like he’ll be shocked if he tries to move. When you can’t breathe any longer and the sweat starts to stick to your clothes, you pull back, only for Bokuto to chase your lips with quiet laughter. Your heart skips a beat.

“See? Not so bad, right?”

As if you’ve reverted to being a high schooler, you giggle. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Who’d you think of? Iron Man? Lieutenant America?”

You laugh again. “It’s Captain America. But, uh...I didn’t think of anyone. Just you.”

“Me?” You feel him grinning again. “Aww, you’re so sweet!”

That emotional part of your brain says to kiss him again. Though, right when you’re about to do so, the door opens and unflattering fluorescent light shines upon the two of you like an unwanted hormonal spotlight. It’s Kuroo who greets you two first. “Time’s up!”

Seven minutes went by too slowly, then too quickly. Stepping out, you fix your hair and smooth down your clothes, ignoring some of the whistles from drunk boys and judgemental stares from much more social girls. Bokuto takes your hand out of the blue, ignoring his own slurry of questions and cheers, and pulls you off to a mostly-empty hallway as Kuroo calls for the next couple to get in the closet. Now that you can see, Bokuto is flushed and his hair is messier than usual. Did you do that to him in the closet? If you did, you didn’t notice.

“That was fun,” he says. He’s still quiet.

You nod. “I’ve never done any of that before. Thanks.”

“Heh.” Bokuto pulls out his phone and opens up the screen to enter a new contact. “Did you...wanna do that again sometime? But after a movie or something?”

Your heart kicks your brain out for this one moment and you take his phone to enter your information without hesitation. “Okay. We can brush up on your Marvel knowledge.”

“Hey! I know them well enough. Like...that one kid! Who got bit by a spider and he shoots webs and stuff!”

“Spider-Man?”

“That’s his name?”

You laugh and return his phone. “I can’t believe you’re better at calculus than naming superheroes.”

“Nuh uh. I had the highest grades in…” he taps his chin, then takes you back into the living room and calls out to someone on the opposite end, “Tsukki! What’s that class we had together last semester?”

The classmate in question and one of the tallest boys you’ve ever seen looks up from a conversation he’s having with a boy covered in freckles. He squeezes his red cup at the sound of Bokuto’s voice and turns away sharply. The boy Tsukki was talking to looks to either of them, then answers on Tsukki’s behalf, “19th century Japanese literature?”

Bokuto nods eagerly and looks back at you. “Yeah. That.”

You’re colored surprised and intrigued and significantly more interested in kissing Bokuto all over again. There’s no way you can tell where this is going, but you’re down for wherever he’ll take you. For now, he can start by walking you home and telling you all about old poetry and cross spikes and everything in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, feedback and love for all of the other beautiful contributors in this work are greatly appreciated. <3


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